


Collections from a Moderator's universe

by MissTeaVee



Series: The Moderator's Universe [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Familial Relationships, Gen, Other, Parenthood, graphic violence in some chapters and warned for in that chapter, hella au, hints of cloneshipping in some chapters it will be warned for in summaries, tags will be added as need be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-05 03:28:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15161582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTeaVee/pseuds/MissTeaVee
Summary: A collection of stories and tidbits that were written to fill out the Star wars roleplay group I am moderating/DM'ing. We're working towards a happy ending,t he differences between it and canon are endless.1. Personhood and leagalese therin (Cody, mild warnings for discussion of sexuality)2. Restless (Jango, Boba, no warnings)3. How to Extract Information From A Jedi (Boba, Ashoka, mild warning for the cleaning of hunted meats)4. Medbay Kitty (Original animal character, Kix, others. mildly hinted cloneshipping)5. A snowy night on Kamino (Jango, Boba, Original Clone Character, No warnings)6. Mand'alor on the move (Graphic descriptions of death)7. Onwards and Upwards (Another missive from Cody)8. Medicine for fish (Nala Se, Alpha-49 (OC) Rated A for poisioning)





	1. Personhood and legaleas therin

This Essay/Announcement is the result of several months of dynamic play and interaction in the fight towards clone rights in universe. Publishing this to the group marks a specific passage of time and major goal being achieved, which was the clones gaining personhood rights. Wordy without a lot of plot, but more backstory than will ever make it to this collection. you may wish to skip it.

 

Warning for discussion of clonecest, disussion of the age of sexual consent. Mention of Adult/Minor relationships in the context of them being bad and not allowed.

 

\---------------------

_It is quite a shock to every soldier in the GAR when their comms beep out a sequence indicating an army-wide alert, though troops in active combat will not get the notification until they've returned from the front lines, to keep from being distracted in life or death situations._

\----

\---

-To the attention of all clones active or inactive in this Grand Army of the Republic.

-From the office of Marshall Commander Cody (CC-2224), Nominal representative of all clones made from DNA originating from one Jango Fett of Concord Dawn (Excluding one Boba Fett, at his request.) who shall henceforth be referred to as “The Vod’e” in the collective.

(Sidenote: A group of clones is apparently called a Clamor, per the Kaminoan files I’ve been reading. They refer to a collection of clone officers as a Coalition, a group of Heavy Gunners is an Ambush, and a Pack of ARC troopers is a Disaster Waiting to Happen.)

With all that has happened regarding out achievement of lawful recognition of our personhood; this missive is to outline the ongoing negotiations in relation to us  **gaining wages, benefits, our own territory (And Senate seat!), Reproductive rights**  (RE: having complete control over creating new clones, as well as our own right to produce biological offspring.) and where we, as the army, fit in to the Republic now. First of all let it be known that  **if you wish to resign from the army,**  all serving members have a right to it, though we wish to avoid disrupting the war efforts. As such, if you wish to be discharged, please contact the squad of Sergeant-Major Kelp, (CT-84-5274). Contact information is at the end of this document.

Every Trooper in the GAR is due at least  **three and a half months of backpay**  as of the dispersal of this missive. While the amount of backpay per trooper is still in negotiation, as of midnight tonight we will begin receiving regular biweekly paychecks, deposited to individual accounts, the amount of which is based off of historical pay rates of Republic Navy Personnel in prior conflicts, adjusted for inflation. There will also be a **Hazard Pay Rate**  available to troopers when they volunteer (Or are volunteered) for dangerous duties, such as a rescue/retrieval in active bombardment or minesweeping. Captains will be responsible for judging whether or not to apply hazard pay to a particular trooper’s file for a specific incident. If a trooper believes they are entitled to hazard pay but their captain disagrees, they trooper can easily put in a request for a Hazard ASsessment with the unit’s upper officers. To access the account that has been set up for you, please follow these instructions:

  * You will require your  **CT number** , the serial number of the DC-15 standard issue blaster that is registered to you personally. If you’ve had a DC replaced within the last week, then use the old DC’s serial number. If you’ve lost more Deecee than that within the last week, talk to your superior officer for the correct code and also your quartermaster about why you’re going through so many damn guns.
  * You will combine your CT number and DC serial number to get your bank account number. Your password is the date of your decanting as listed in the ID chip implanted in your left wrist. It is recommended that you change your passcode immediately. (Sidenote:  **The wrist chips are now considered a Rights Violation,**  so if you want yours out, talk to a medic and they can remove it for you in a couple minutes flat. Don’t do it yourself, you’ll slit a vein.)



Combining your CT and DC serial numbers works as follows:

  * My CT number is **CC-2224**  if the Blaster that is registered to my has the serial number DC-15s-123456789 then I would combine them into the following account number:



DC15  00 **2224** 123456789 

 

The additional zeros are to compensate for cyclical serial numbers. With Respects to one ARC Trooper Fives (ARC-5555) We’ll be using his old CT number as an example. His original CT number was  **CT-27-5555** , so, utilizing the same hypothetical Deecee serial number, his account would read as such:

DC15  **275555** 123456789 

 

This should be  reasonably simple to all Vod’e. If you have trouble due to brain injury or other issue, speak with a medical officer to help you get your accounts running. ARC troopers and troopers who upgraded from CT to CC will need to use their original CT numbers to login to their accounts, if the number changed when they were promoted. The DC15 accounts are unique to Vode with the Coruscant Capital Bank, so you don’t have to worry about your number being somehow taken.

In other matters, it is worth knowing that there have been negotiations to take all Vod’e off Kamino and relocate them to newer, better, and hopefully drier accommodations. While the war is still being fought, it seems we will still be needed as soldiers, so training of cadets will continue with several differences:

       -Alpha Class ARC troopers are now overseeing all stages of training. They intend to root out cruel educational practices. The trainers answer to them and the Alpha class has the authority to dismiss abusive trainers. If you’re a cadet who is being abused, or know of a cadet being abused or past incidents of abusive trainers, contact Alpha-17. He’s promised to deal with them personally.

       - Cadets have more control over where they end up. While you will still be encouraged to go into a corps that matches your strengths, you can request assessment for a specific specializations.

       - Regarding Cadets, children are no longer considered cadets, just children. Once someone reaches age of emancipation, they may rejoin military-type training (more on that later), and upon completion of their training and achieving age of majority, may be shipped out to active duty or join the reserves.

 

**Age of Maturity, Age(s) of consent, and Age of Majority**  are about to become VERY complicated subjects for us. There’s never been a set measure of any of the three for us, and we’ve been negotiating for a cure to the accelerated aging. As it stands, we do know that at least one cure, or at least treatment exists. At present, clone troopers age at approximately twice the rate of average humans, though due to stressors and maltreatment, many older troopers appear to age even faster. When the time comes to account for age based off of a mixture of some of one’s lifespan being accelerated and some not, out identifications will have two birthdays; one our actual date of decantation, and the other being an ‘assumed’ date of decantation, that will be the one that calculates your physical/legal age. When we receive the age deceleration, it is very likely that we will use one single date as the cutoff, even if some troopers get their treatments a within a few weeks of said date. Unfortunately, this means that some troopers might find themselves having to wait a bit longer than others before being considered ‘adult,’ but it’s been a complicated process.

For the purpose of this writing, I will refer to age as  _actual age(assumed age)_ , for example, I would be 14.5(29). (Alpha classes might be closer to 15(35-40), but no one’s completely sure. They went through puberty earlier than most troopers, even accounting for the fact that they were decanted about half a year earlier than the oldest batches of regular troopers. For the use of this writing we’ll consider them 15(30), however.)

In the writing down of laws that the Vod’e, what is on paper now is not at all set in stone yet, however this is from speaking to and canvassing many thousand clones, speaking to the oldest generations as well as youngers, and referencing old Mandalorian laws and more modern Republic ones. As such, the  **Age of Maturity of Vod’e** will likely be set at  **age 7(14)**. This does not mean we will be sending clones that old to combat, but those aged 7(14) and up who are already in active service will not be forcibly removed from the army unless they wish to me. So stated, those in more dangerous postings will be reassigned to less hazardous assignments.

The  **Age of Majority amongst Vod’e**  will be set at  **age 9(18)** , however, clones aged  **8(16) (Age of Emancipation** meaning one can live independently enough though not quite an adult) will be able to join military reserves and take on certain lower risk duties.

This brings us to the  **Vod’e’s age of Consent.**  The maximal Age of consent is likely to be  **8.5(17)** , meaning someone of that age is considered  **capable of consenting to sexual scenarios with consenting adults** .  **A Minor Age of Consent**  is to allow for younger physically maturing Vod’e to  **safely interact in a consenting manner with their own age group.**  The Minor age of consent will be likely set to  **6.5(13)**  and when someone is within that bracket,  **sexual contact should only be considered consensual if both parties are within 1(2) years of age of each other.**  Under this rule, an 8(16) year old clone would be able to consent to a 9(18) year old, and vice versa. However an 8(16) could NOT consent to a 12(24) while an 8.5(17) could. I understand it seems a bit arbitrary, and it’s not something we’ve been able to be concerned about before this due to our lack of rights all together, but we’re already experiencing a race-wide case of C-ptsd, and if we can help prevent it in our youngers, then all the better.

Until we get the whole accelerated aging and being maybe on the wrong side of a slightly arbitrary date issues all sorted, there will by a certain amount of leeway granted on these subjects, but you will be scrutinized heavily if you’re engaging in sexual relations with a much younger trooper. We’re going to have to start looking a lot more closely at relationships between soldiers and direct superiors too. Things that were just kind of allowed or accepted when we were slaves with lifespans that could be cut short for no reason than our natborn officer’s bad moods are a lot iffier now. We’re not saying you can’t date outside your rank, or someone a few years older/younger than yourself  just be mindful of power imbalances, maturity, and/or the kind of favoritism that having a lover in the direct chain of command could cause. We want things to run smoothly for all our sakes. Make sure everyone’s an adult, can say no if they want to, and work from there.

I previously mentioned that we might be getting our own territory off Kamino. Right now the most likely prospect is a mostly uninhabited planet in Republic space named Kuiper-534. It has decent land for farming, but not much in the way of natural resources, save wood. Should we accept this planet, our biggest resource/export would be ourselves. This brings me to the idea of clones, and our progeny, which will of course be future generations of clones, but also biological offspring, and adopted children, becoming something a Standing Army for the Republic. It would allow for highly trained forces being available to the Republic at all times, most of which would be in reserves. This roles into the idea that all clones, upon achieving Age of Emancipation, would be required to serve a set number of years (3-4, probably) in some sort of Public Service position. Military, Policing, Emergency Services, Sanitation, ETC. This would provide a basis for all Vod’e to have solid work experience, reinforces our own values of community, and provides a service to the Republic, or at the very least, our own community, not to mention ensure that clones aging out of care will have a guaranteed source of income.

Now, before all this personhood went through, there was an idea on Kamino of putting troopers in stasis on reserve for the next war. Surprisingly, a lot of troopers are in favor of this happening to them if they survive this war. If there is a majority in favor of this, we may try to make up some laws regarding this, as well as a the amount of time one can be put in suspended animation, how they’ll remain connected to the culture, and how they’d be compensated. It would allow the Republic to maintain a large standing army without depleting financial reserves, but it will take a LOT of negotiation before those of us in the higher ranks are comfortable with the idea. There will always be Vod’e who are soldiers for life, and we will try to find ways to accommodate this.

Present ideas are that troopers who have completed their years of mandatory service can join or remain in the military reserves while also continuing on with whatever lifestyle they please, unless the reserves are needed, in which case there’d be a call to action.

As to Governing. Right now it seems that I’ve been more or less elected as representative for the Vod’e, and it’s been remarked upon that most troopers seem content to defer to the Alphas and CC-class officers. Likely, this will change as time goes on. We’re hoping to have a system of elected officials, with no single leader of all, but a group that makes decisions. A High General or Grand Commander of the army might well be an appointed position, or perhaps voted on by all the other members of the council. As to the position of Senator, If anyone else feels like they’re qualified, please, come talk to me. I was appointed by mob rule and could use some help.

Now I touched on the fact that cadets under 7(14) will no longer be considered cadets, just children. With personhood having gone through for us, I think most of us want to see our young ones growing up happy and healthy. We’re in negotiations for our own cloning systems so that we will be able to make more of our own clones. Boba Fett has offered to be a gene donor so we have access to Jango Fett’s unaltered DNA to help us out in the creation process. It seems that cloning persons is to becoming heavily regulated, Kamino may find themselves limited to cloning animals or body parts before long, but as we are clones, many of us feel that it is imperative that we maintain the right, not only allowing us to continue as our own people, but because it keeps the laws regarding clone personhood relevant. Though I know many troopers will likely be adopting our younger siblings, there will always be some who will live parentless. Instead of considering this a problem, we’re putting forward the idea of raising our little ones communally.

One of the Public Service positions that young adult Vod’e could take up would be that of helping raise and educate young clones. A standardized schooling system that lets us ensure that all young clones have a good skill set and life skills, while allowing variation for individual learning style and talent seems most advantageous. Biological children would be raised the same way, so no matter if the child is raised communally or by a parent(s), they would all go to the same schools to learn. Children who want to remain in training for soldierhood will have the options of a military style training, that accounts for the fact that they are children. There will be other extra curricular activities made available too, sports, exploring, wilderness exploration, farming type courses. Different things that might interest children and even those of us well into our adulthood.

Speaking of, we’re planning to allocate some of the extra funds we’re negotiating for towards classes on understanding money, how to cook, and other things we’ll need to know. Anyone have suggestions as to life skills you think we all need learning? Send a message to myself or Sergeant-major Kelp.

Now, lastly, ever since we became aware of the fact that different sexualities and gender identities exist, we've been positive about it, and supportive of those with different identities than our own. While it may seem odd, considering we've always considered it the norm, we intend to write into our laws rules to protect expression of both Gender Identity and Sexuality. With personhood status, some Vod’e may wish to transition, if they feel that the bodies we were given do not suit them. The intent of putting what is already cultural to us in writing is to ensure that is stays cultural, making it much harder for someone to come along and try to throw us back to the barest understanding that the Kaminoans bothered granting us. We’re also going to codify personal expression through decoration of armor and bodies like we already do, as the last thing we need is someone out there telling us that now that we’re people, we actually have to obey natborn codes about haircuts, tattoos and piercings. Your armor color has to match your unit, but that’s that.

If there is anything else of concern that this writing did not cover, please contact me.

 


	2. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango wakes up to a strange noise in the house.
> 
> Notes: Dogma, Plo Koon and Ashoka are visiting the Fett Homestead on Concord Dawn. Dogma recently discovered he is one of several Force-sensitives in the clones, and has been dreaming of a Kyber crystal that is somehow related to Concord Dawn. Jango tossed him in the spare room when we fell asleep, hence the mention of him.

\---------

There was a strange noise in the house.

Jango sat up, instantly awake, one hand automatically reaching under his pillow for the blaster there, but he waited, taking stock. Soft snoring from downstairs- That was just Dogma, still out like a light where Jango had left him in the spare room. The fact that his clone was still sleeping comfortably was a good sign, he knew full well that his progeny's instincts for danger were more sensitive than his own, and Dogma  was a Sensitive, so he'd be even more so. So what...

There was that noise again, but this time, Jango recognized it. He heaved a sigh, pulling his hand out from under his pillow and ran both hands through his hair. He looked at the wall that separated his bedroom from Boba's.

When Jango was fourteen, he had inherited the title of Mand'alor from his adoptive father after Jaster's murder at the hands of a trusted ally. Fourteen was the age of majority for Mando'ade of the true lines, that depended less on blood and more on spirit and community and culture. Jango had been maybe not quite ready for adulthood at fourteen, but it had been thrust upon him, and he had risen to the challenge magnificently. But he wasn't going to hold it against Boba if he wasn't ready to be an adult at Fourteen.

He started to get out of bed at another little noise- a muffled sob, really, from Boba's room, but stopped himself, settling back down in bed and crossing his legs. Some nights, Boba wanted his father there, and some nights he tried to pretend he wasn't crying from dreams of the day he'd though his father was dead; decapitated in front of a little boy who would be swept helplessly up in the tides of fate. Jango had survived that fight, had been dragged aboard a Jedi shuttle while unconscious by an adoring trooper who didn't realize Boba was left behind...

Another sigh, and Jango pushed himself out of bed and headed for the door. For him to hear Boba having a nightmare, his son had to be pressed up to the wall, and he figured it was worth seeing if Boba wanted company. He lightly tested the door handle and found it locked. He dropped his hand from it and sighed, aiming for the washroom instead. On his way out, Boba's door opened, and the boy looked out, rubbing his eyes and squinting at the shadowed figure of his father walking by. "Oh- Dad…

  
"Hey, Sorry Boba, did I wake you?" Jango asked, pausing and putting out an arm to the boy. He couldn't help feeling a small wave of relief when Boba walked into his arms and hugged him tightly, cheek pressed his chest. Sometimes Boba pretended nothing was wrong, rejected the offer of comfort Jango would always provide, trying to be a Man when he was still a boy. Helplessness was not a state Jango Fett enjoyed, and he would only suffer it for his son, but he much preferred it when Boba came to him.  
  
"It was a bad dream anyway," Boba whispered, sniffling, and then wiping his face on his shoulder. He took a couple deep breaths, leaning on his father as Jango ran fingers through Boba's shaggy locks. "Sorry Dad... You probably want to go back to bed.."

"Sure I do, but you're more important," Jango pressed his lips to the top of Boba's head, again grateful that they'd managed to find each other, no matter how much it galled to owe something to a Jedi. The realization that Boba had been left on Geonosis while he was cuffed in a Jedi shuttle. The unexpected mercy granted by Plo Koon, who convinced Mace Windu to release Jango so he could find Boba, as long as Jango stayed under the radar.  
  
_"We have done him personally wrong enough times Mace, and it is not him the favor is for, but for a lost, frightened child whom we have caused to become this way."_  
  
He hadn't found Boba. He still didn't know how Boba had gotten off Geonosis and ended up in Aurra Sing's hands. His son didn't talk about it much. But for several horrible, horrible years, there'd been no sign of his boy. The only clone of his he was allowed to keep, to cherish and protect. The only one he'd let himself love...

Jango swallowed down the rush of emotions and simply kept petting Boba's hair, holding him close. Boba's breathing had slowed, soothed by the arms around him. Finally, his son spoke, in a voice that could have come from him when he was a little boy on Kamino.

"Dad... can I... sleep with you tonight?"

"Sure buddy, no problem."

Jango's bed was smaller than the grandiose mattress he'd had on Kamino, but sturdy and comfortable. It was more than big enough for him to lay down on with his fourteen year old son cuddling close to his father's chest, the same way he had when he was three, and miserable that his playmates were now too big to play with him anymore, and that he couldn't join weapons training with them. In the younger years, Jango had often let Boba play amongst the clone cadets, but by age three, the Alpha class were so much bigger than Boba, more mature, and already learning that the difference between themselves and little Boba was more than just who aged faster.

How bitter a pill was it to see young boys learning resentment so quickly. But he couldn't blame them for being jealous of how much better the Kaminoans treated Boba than them. Jango had done his best to raise them all fairly, but in the end, Boba was his son to be protected and loved, and the Alphas... were a responsibility to train, and the affection he might grant them was bittered by the fact that he was training to die for a religious order he didn't even believe in.

Gods he should've shoved that Jedi's offer down his throat. No. That _Sith's_ because Yan-fucking-Dooku had played up the sympathy card, talking about how he'd left the Order specifically because of things like how the Jedi would play holier-than-thou and "What we did was right." What a smooth-tongued tosser, and Sifo-dyas, that poor Sod, insisting that having clones to care for would make the Jedi take responsibility for their actions, they wouldn't be able to quantify so many lives being used as tools.

Briefly, Jango wondered how many of these thoughts had been planted in Sifo-dyas' head by Dooku or whatever other agents. But he discarded his thoughts of the past as best he could for the here and now; his son curled to Jango's chest like an oversized limpet. the cool breeze coming from the cracked window. The soft snores from downstairs. And fuck, Jango has promised himself he wouldn't get attached to any of his clones. He couldn't afford to, not psychologically. He'd promised himself when he first saw the babies that would grow into the Omegas, the Nulls, the Alphas. He'd promised himself every day, watching Boba playing with them. He'd promised it to himself on the private landing platform that housed the cuvy'dar's ships, looking down at a ferocious five or six year old blond Cadet who was shuddering in seawater, eyes burning after his first kill. -That one... He'd failed on about two minutes before making the promise, but still!

Fek, he'd even made the promise to himself again and again. Training the boys up. Watching the now adult Alphas, and later, some of the finer CC clones be made to sleep in suspended animation to keep them in peak condition until the Jedi sent for their army. Again when he glanced them as he and Boba made to escape Obi-wan Kenobi on Tipoca city. _Jango Sir! There's a Jedi here, he was looking for you have you seen him!?_ And fuck it all, he'd promised it seeing two Jedi walking up his damned driveway with one of his clones in tow.

 _Should've told the lot of em to get off my lawn and slammed the door,_ He mused without any heat to it. Gods how he'd failed his son. And all the other ones that he wouldn't, couldn't call his children. He'd slipped up, calling them his _[chakur'ade](none), _ but it was... fuck of course it was true.

He hummed softly to Boba, taking a deep breath, again grateful to have his son there. Alive, healthy and generally happy. He didn't blame Boba for being wary and jealous of the stranger in the house. Jango had caught himself caring too much about the one, as if lavishing gifts and affection on one of his clones could make up for the neglect of the rest of them. But it didn't work like that, he knew that. And damned of course he liked the kid, he was likable, and had the same aura of needing someone to love him as the Strill that had taken to him. To Jango, raised as an obligation (But never, ever resented) and trained to take responsibility when his people needed help, when one was helpless and in need of Family, Dogma was near-impossible to resist.

But it was the same damned story with all his clones. Thank the gods that Kal had taken in the Omegas and Nulls, even if Jango didn't approve of Kal's... parenting. They'd grown up sturdy, wise and strong in spite of Skirata's fathering. Jango had intervened subtly at times, but in the end, it'd been easier to be a sort of uncle than to try and raise them, and Jango wasn't prepared to have more children of his own.

And to do that would so hurt Boba too... Jango looked down at his boy, now sleeping peacefully, legs flexing just a little as he dreamed. Jango would do a great many things to ensure that his son never suffered again. Aurra Sing was dead. He'd made sure of it. Somewhere out in the universe was Bossk. Jango hadn't known the guy, but from what he could tell, the Trandoshan had been the only positive adult figure in Boba's life right up until he'd gone into prison, and then remained the only person Boba trusted until the Coruscant Guards had let Boba slip out of their hands and into those of the Jedi who would see father and son reunited.

Fuck but Jango still wasn't sure if he wanted to Punch or Hug Plo Koon every time he saw him.

Bossk had found himself freed from prison after Jango, using an alias, tipped off his generally useless republic-appointed lawyer to a discrepancy in Bossk's induction paperwork. Boba had gotten in contact with him and the two had done a couple missions together since. Good, trustworthy partners were hard to come by, and Jango didn't know why a trandoshan of all people would turn out to be that and more to Boba, but he was grateful.

Boba shifted, mumbling in his dream. Jango settled himself more comfortably in bed, holding his son close, whispering reassuringly. without waking, Boba buried his face in Jango's shirt, making the elder Fett smile tenderly. ["Nuhoy, cyar'ika, ni cuyir olar o'r haar vaar'tur."](none)


	3. How to extract information from a Jedi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba needs to know how to get in contact with someone who can lead him and his father to the last (ex)Jedi alive responsible for the massacre on Galidraan. Sometimes you need to get information from someone without them realizing that you're digging for answers.
> 
> Ashoka's preparing and eating raw meat from a hunted animal in this one.
> 
> Sidenote: In this universe, Jango has hunted down and killed every Jedi who was on Galidraan except Dooku, or any who might have died naturally. Jango hasn't been suspected of causing those deaths since most appeared to be accidents or he left other people to take the blame, and he isn't about to mention the truth to anyone except Boba.

Boba sat at the dining room table in his and his father's house, methodically cleaning a blaster. Dad was taking that oddball trooper over to the Skiratas to fix his back. All well and good, and it meant Boba was alone with two Jedi. Ashoka, he liked. It was actually too bad she was a Jedi, he thought she'd make a great working partner if she didn't have that whole stuck up Jedi idealism going on. Dad had agreed when Boba had mentioned it. Plo Koon was a whole other beast that Boba still wasn't quite sure how to define. He was kind had made Boba feel... better, even after everything, before Boba had known his father had survived. The Kel Dor was so easy to like, so trustworthy, it made Boba nervous in some deep part of himself. _"He cultivates that impression of himself, no mistake. Doesn't mean he's not a great person because he is. But he is the exact type they're talking about when they say that demons tremble when good men go to war._ " Dad had said wryly. And here he was. Alone. With this odd duo and a mission given to him by his father. So he continued to work away on his gear, glancing around when Ashoka came in without the Jedi Master. Perfect. Boba breathed through his nose slowly, recalling the instructions Jango had given him.

"Hey," The Togruta sat down, holding a small dead animal-a dikdik in her hands. "What'cha doing?"

"Just cleaning my kit, There's this damp smell that keeps lingering," Boba said with a shrug, using a cloth on a stick to clean out the inside of his blaster's barrel. "What about you?"

"Oh... I went hunting. These little creatures are tasty," Ashoka smiled, holding up the Dikdik. "The fur gets stuck in my fangs though, so I was going to come borrow a knife to skin it."

"Sure, I wouldn't mind the company," Boba kept cleaning his already-spotless gear, smiling to himself as he remembered Dad's instructions. _"Let them talk, keep it a conversation by adding little details yourself, or asking questions that let them keep talking. Don't show too much eagerness about a subject, especially not the one that really interests you. Remember, you know what you want to know, but if you jump right in, your target might get suspicious. if you can make the conversation feel natural, they will be more comfortable and let slip more detail."_

As Ashoka sat back down, Boba glanced at her twin lightsabers and hummed thoughtfully. She noticed and put her hand on one. "What?"

"Nothing really," Boba shrugged. "Just curious, not a lot of Jedi dual wield, right?"

"No, but it suits me," She said, starting to skin the little mammal. "It takes a lot of focus, but also having your awareness spread out, to know where both blades are, you know?"

"I guess its not unlike dual wielding blasters," Boba nodded, returning his attention to what he was doing, thinking about what to say next. Ashoka liked to talk, and Plo wasn't there to limit her. This was his chance, but how to keep things moving. Dad was right though, having something to do made silences seem natural, not manipulative. As far as Ashoka was concerned, Boba was just cleaning his kit and making idle conversation Nothing odd. The young Togruta didn't realize how intently he was studying her out of the corner of his eye. Finally he spoke up again as if in idle speculation. "So someone who would dual wields lightsabers must have a lot of training huh?"

"Yeah Why, do you want to learn?" She asked, giving him a funny look. He shrugged again.

"Just curious. I met somoene on a job once who had two sabers. They were different though. I didn't really see her using them much. There was... a lot going on."

 _That_ had her interest. Ashoka put down the knife and leaned forward. Boba turned over his chestplate and glanced at her with a curious quick to his brow. The Togruta shifted, looking at him. "Two lightsabers? Really? Were they a Jedi?"

"She said she'd stolen them.. or killed the weilder or something..." Now was for calculated story telling. He'd practiced recitingt he tale to his father the night prior, until Jango thought it was the right amount of detail to give to a lawkeeper. "See, I had gotten together with a couple friends for a job I'd been offered. We hired on two more bounty hunters and were talking about what to do when one of them went to hit on this girl. She... didn't like what he was offering I guess. Ran him through with a red lightsaber.

Ashoka's expression pinched angrily. Boba shrugged. "It happens at places like that. Anyway, we told her that she could fill the now empty spot on our team and get a cut of the fee, or we could turn her over to the authorities. She accepted the mission. It was on this planet way out there called Quartzite. We were told to escort some cargo... a tiny box really, on a tram. It seemed pretty simple, deliver the goods to the sovereign and get the money. Too good to be true, as dad would say, especially considering the fee. Anyway, there was a lot of fighting against rebel forces and stuff... and it turned out there was a _girl_ in the box!"

"What!? Why?"

"Well I found out later that she was from another race on the planet and they were gonna force her to marry the King, and that's why the rebels were attacking the trams all the time, to save her. But I didn't know that at the time. Anyway, our friend with the lightsabers ended up locking me in the box..." He huffed angrily. "And released the girl. Which... fair enough. Aaannnd I may have caused a political revolution since I has to kill a few people, maybe a sovereign to escape. But. Anyway."

"Did you really?" Ashoka stared, wide-eyed.

"I said Maybe. Besides, Quartzite is not republic domain." Boba did his best imitation of Dad's flat unimpressed look. "Anyway, turns out our friend had collected the credits for the job and taken her share and her share alone, and left the rest to us. Wild eh?"

Ashoka nodded. "I'm glad she freed the girl, but what about you!? You could have been tortured or killed!"

"Yeah well... that's the business. Anyway I just thought of that because well, my armor STILL has that smell from that planet, and seeing both your lightsabers... You don't think she was a Sith or something, do you?"

"No.. sith wouldn't be doing bounty work," Ashoka chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Tall, humanoid with pale eyes and tattoos.." She traced a hand down her chin. Boba nodded, preventing his eyes from lighting up eagerly, Ashoka for her part made no such attempt, brightening. "Ventress. She used to be Dooku's apprentice, but he betrayed her. So she's ex-sith I guess. She saved my life. She's not... I wouldn't say a good person-"

"Please don't," The pained expression he put on was probably a little much, but Ashoka immediately went on the embarrassed defensive, waving her hands.

"Oh no no I don't mean- well I just man she's not _as_ evil as she used to be. And can be nice at times. But yeah, it does sound like her."

"Huh," Boba was too well trained in gun control to stroke his chin with the barrel, glad to have his and his father's suspicious confirmed. "Interesting. Maybe she's still doing bounty work. On the one hand I owe her for locking me in that crate, on the other she actually did make sure I got my cut of the credits. Honestly like that is hard to find."

Ashoka laughed awkwardly, toying with a lek. Boba pretended not to notice, looking thoughtful. "Have you ever fought her?"

"Oh yeah! All the time!" Ashoka brightened at that, flashing her teeth. Boba nodded with interest.

"So Dooku taught her... and tried to have her killed probably, but she survived. Wow, she's gotta be tough as hell."

"She is!"

"Huh, might try to link up with her for another mission sometime. Dad helps me a bit with knowing how to work with people. She'd make a good ally, or at least, better on good terms than enemies." His nervous laugh sounded sincere enough. Ashoka laughed again, a bit less awkwardly.

"That's true! Well I wouldn't know how to find her, though she did tell me that I was welcome to join her the one time.. she said I could track her down on Tattooine," Ashoka shook her head. "Why would anyone want to go to that hellhole is beyond me."

"The hutts pay well, but crossing them is dangerous," Said Boba, lifting his helmet as if checking for rust, hiding his smile. He had the confirmation he'd wanted, and the location of some very badly needed information. Even better, it was highly unlikely that his target would have succumbed, if she was as good as Ashoka thought she was.

"Ugh... hutts," Ashoka grimaced. "You know when I first became Anakin's Padawan I had to help rescue Jabba's son?"

"Oh... really?" He _really_ hoped she wasn't going to tell the whole story.

"Yeah, so I guess I should start with Christophsis... wait, maybe I should tell you because-" Ashoka started chattering on, Leaving Boba to nod now and then, listening with growing horror as it became clear that her story was going to go on for a very long while.


	4. Medbay Kitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The life of Catscan, Kix's oversized feral cat.
> 
> Extremly subtle hints of Comix shipping

She meowed as piteously as she could, staring up at the man who had stopped just short of stepping on her, giving him the most pathetic look she could. He crouched down, glancing around, and then scooped her up, tucking her into his armor. Surprised, but pleased, she purred, settling down against his body heat, even if the position was uncomfortable. A warm body was good, and no doubt there’d be food soon.

\----

“Kix, catch!”

It was quite surprising when he took her out and lightly tossed her. She braced for a rough impact, tail puffing out, only to land on something flexible. Before she could properly investigate, hands were scooping up, another man exclaiming over her, rubbing her head and scratching under chin. Delighted, she looked around, seeing the first man looking at her and the one holding her. She chirruped, leaning into the scratching hands as the one holding her- Kix, she’d learn- Profusely thanked the Rescuer.

It was all well and good with her, especially when Kix carried her to some sort of table, and put her down, and then brought her a saucer of milk to drink. When she finished that off, he picked her up and carried her around to meet others. Everyone smelled very similar, and looked similar, but they all seemed nice and gave good ear rubs, so that was okay.

\------

“You’re getting so BIG Catscan! What is Kix feeding you!?”

She purred, arching up under Jesse’s hand as he walked by. She was getting to know all the people on the ship now. Most looked and smelled almost the same as her Dad, but everyone was different if you knew how to smell right. There were three people who didn’t smell at all the same to Dad, one man that Dad thought was silly, but still spoke to respectfully, one man who would sometimes borrow her just to let her sit on his desk and purr while he worked and occasionally fed her a snack or gave her a scratch, and the girl, who Catscan though was a Very Large and somewhat strange kitten. Dad seemed very fond of that one, Catscan wasn’t sure if Ashoka was her sister or cousin, but she always greeted her like family either way.

Jesse was another person Dad really liked. They spent a lot of time talking, even when Dad was busy with something or other. She didn’t mind, Jesse gave her lots of affection too. Everyone did. She liked pretty much everyone, as long as they didn’t kick her or grab at her. Sometimes Dad didn’t want her in medbay and that was okay. That was when it smelled like blood and Hurt, and she wanted to help, but she understood that Dad needed her out of the way so he could make the worst of the Blood and Hurt go away, but after, when things were quiet, she could come back in and help tend the Hurt.

She would find the greatest Hurt on someone’s body, always hidden under wraps, and lay on it and purr as loud as she could to help make them heal faster. She always made sure to change up patients once in a while, so she could heal all of them. It was important work, being a medbay kitty! Even when she got so big that Dad wouldn’t let her lay on big Hurts anymore, she would help by laying beside the big hurts, or cuddling her way under shaking hands that wanted something to do, and what were idle hands for if not Petting?

\-----

She meowed loudly and plaintively. Where was Daddy? Why wasn’t he coming back. Comet had come to get her and he smelled like Hurt, but she couldn’t find any Hurt on him. She mewed, patting his face with her paw until he looked up at her, then meowed again. His eyes filled with tears and he pulled her close, burying his face in her fur, crying his Hurt out.

Catscan hated getting wet, but she purred away anyway, knowing that it was the best way to heal a Hurt, even if she couldn’t see it.

\------

Daddy had a big hurt! Was that why he’d been gone!? She meowed at him, demanding to know why he’d DARE be gone for so long and get Hurt without telling her. He crouched slowly, picking her up and nuzzling her nose. Annoyed she batted his face with her paws, meowing at his ear. He laughed, speaking soothingly and sitting down on a bunk. She clambered all over his lap, and once he laid down, she managed to find his Hurt, and laid down beside him, resting her head over the bandages on his stomach, purring s loud as she could for him.

She was still angry at him for being gone for so long, but she’d never not help him Heal.

\----

Comet had brought her Kittens. So many kittens. They were so small, even smaller than when Rex had found her and brought her to Dad. She loved each and every one of these kittens and would raise them into big strong cats, just like her. She purred, licking one as Comet and Dad fed two of the others, glad she had such a good, happy family.


	5. A snowy night on Kamino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango is awoken in the middle of the night to help wrangle some cadets

The chime at the door was ringing away, and Jango groaned, lifting his head just enough to check the time on the wall. It was unreasonably early to be woken up. In fact it was more “Late last night” than “Early this morning.” He rolled over, then realized Boba wasn’t in bed beside him like he’d been when the Bounty hunter had fallen asleep, and sat up, glancing around. Boba, it transpired, was sitting at the end of the bed, glaring out into the hallway of their small apartment.

“Want to see who’s at the door son?” Jango asked, scratching his head. Probably Kal or Waylon, but it could be one of his clones, he figured. Boba nodded, scampering off the bed and down the hall to the front door. He heard it open, and Boba squeal in excited greeting.

“Hi Fordy-Nine!” Bobaa could be heard exclaiming. “Why you up so late!?”

“Boba, is _ your father  _ in?”

Jango hurriedly got out of bed. He didn’t think any cadet would ever harm Boba, but he’d taken notice of the jealousy his trainees tended to express in Boba’s direction, and didn’t want Boba being upset by sharp words. The eldest of them were six now, just like Boba, but… He stepped out into the hall to look at the tall boy just outside his apartment. Alpha-49 was midway through puberty and almost twice as tall as Jango’s son. The Kaminoans wanted all of Jango’s clones smoothed-faced and would insist on a strict regimen of daily shaving (Jango hadn’t expected to have to teach THAT to his clones, but then... Somehow he was still always surprised when full grown copies of himself didn’t pop out of those tubes) but Alpha-49 had a faint shadow around his upper lip and hidden below his cheekbones. The hair grew in so fast, he knew.

The Kaminoans swore that all the clones were only aged twice the normal human rate, but Jango had noticed the Omega, Null and Alpha classes growing much faster than the Command or CT stock did, so he assumed the test batches were being further accelerated. From a scientific standpoint it made sense to use small control groups to test new methods, from a humane standpoint, it upset him, but there was nothing much he could do short of setting fire to all of tipoca city. What would he do with twenty million young copies of himself after that!? What could he?

He pushed all those thoughts aside, approaching the boys, the younger one appearing closer to 14 than the elder’s six. “What’s going on Forty-nine?”

Forty-nine shuffled, looking embarrassed. “Its some of the younger CC cadets sir, The rain changed to soft ice, and a few of them snuck out to get a look and won’t listen to the older CCs or us. We don’t want the Kaminoans noticing all the empty beds.”

“Ah, I see,” Jango gave a quick stretch, turning to grab a coat for himself, and picking up Boba, bundling him in a blanket. Boba giggled, wrapping his arms around Jango’s neck. Alpha-49’s eyes flicked at Boba for just a moment, but his expression remained blank. “Soft ice? So not hail, then?”

“No sir, the younger CCs are arguing that it must be… snow, but we’ve never seen that before.”

“Hm,” Jango opened his window shutters and glanced out, letting out a surprised laugh at the sight. “It is indeed snow! Well, come on, let’s go get everyone rounded up. I’m disappointed in the youngsters, but I can’t blame them for liking snow.”

Alpha-49 looked relieved, nodding and turning on his heel to lead Jango to where the other cadets were gathered. Jango mused as they walked, considering the fact that the young clone had come searching for him to help, not Skirata, and certainly not a Kaminoan. There was a trust towards him, almost worship in the young cadets, though the Alphas, knowing him best, were in various stages of treating him a bit like an unfavored parent or uncle. He couldn't blame them, and yet, it hurt somewhere deep down.

_ It's not your problem. You can't do anything about it. _

For some reason, it didn't make him feel much better. Seeing the half dozen young boys standing around on the outside platform though, wearing only their light clothing, staring up at the sky in wonder, or playing with the slushy snow with open curiosity on their faces, that was good.


	6. Mand'alor on the Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graphic descriptions of murder. RiP Death Watch.

_The Following is an Article appearing in the Coruscant Intergalactic News Network, Keywords: Murder, gang violence, Mandalore, Mandalorians, Death Watch._

 

**BRUTAL GANG WARFARE IN THE OUTER RIM, SUSPICIONS POINT TO MANDALORIAN RENEGADES**

**Warning, graphic images!**

 

With the everyday violence, bloodshed and loss of the war, it is difficult for any individual string of murders in an out of the way world to be taken notice of right now. However, a series of deliberate killings on the small world of Cassia II has certainly drawn intergalactic attention in the past few weeks.

Fifteen humans, all of them male-bodied have turned up dead via execution-style killings. Local law enforcement has been investigating for quite some time. All of the deceased are believed to be members of the Mandalorian Terrorist group Death Watch and have had the brand on their backs. No one has taken responsibility for the attacks, however there are theories that it is infighting amongst the terrorist group, possible escapes of clone soldiers who were sold to Death Watch. (Readers will recall the shocking news that Defective Clones were being sold to slavers across the outer rim.) However in the cases of Death Watch enslaved clones, they have overall come forward peacefully.

A new development in the case has shocked the Residents of the sleepy little trade town of Robrecht Ridge, one of many small developments on Cassia II. Sometime in the middle of the night, three men were slaughtered. While residents heard jetpacks, gunfire and screams, no one was able to identify the attackers, stating they saw people in Mandalorian armor fighting. It is believed there may have been attack animals involved as well. At daylight, people exited their homes to discover three corpses, stripped of their armor, hung most gruesomely via impalement through the chest to the side of a large retaining wall. One corpse was heavily disemboweled, and another was decapitated. The third, more horrifically, was still alive despite the industrial rod in his gut. However he did not survive attempts to remove him from the wall. The head of the decapitated man has yet to be located.

The persons responsible for this attack appear to have collected the blood of the dead victims, and drew a symbol in the retaining wall below their victims. The sigil, according to research is that of the Mandalorian Mythasaur. The symbol is commonly used to represent the Old Mandalorian Faction, however it has been used on occasion by the Death Watch. Also on the wall, written in blood are words in Mandalorian that translate roughly to 'unworthy of Mandalore.'

Our reporters have spoken to Boba Fett, heir of the late Jango Fett, who was Mand’alor (Leader) of the Old Mandalorian faction. Young Mr Fett has gone on record stating that at present, the ‘True Mandalorian faction is leaderless and spread thin. However there has always been a low level war with the Death Watch due to their ideals and how they treat populations they come across. I do not know what may have caused a cold war to turn into an active one.’ Upon further questioning, he indicated that the Death Watch faction has been well known to kidnap and enslave persons, and they may have offended some Mandalorian clan, or perhaps kicked the metaphorical hornet’s nest.

Whatever the case may be, the planet of Cassia II is finding itself in quite the frightening situation. As of now, it appears no civilians have been captured, killed, or harmed in the gang warfare, however it feels like it is only a matter of time.

 

**Field reporter Ailra V’dar**

**Coruscant Intergalactic News**

_What follows are several graphic images of a mythosaur skull painted in blood, with markings on the wall of more blood dripping from the now removed bodies. Also shown are images of the little planet, and a map of all the Death Watch corpses found so far on that planet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jango's up to something. Most of the main characters know that, but they still haven't figured out exactly what. They do know he wants to see Dooku dead. But the rest is a bit baffling.


	7. Onwards and Upwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Missive from Cody

_ To the attention of all clones serving or who have served in the Grand Army Of The Republic. _

So!  there have been quite a few developments in the past few months that concern us,  the Clones of Jango Fett. the greatest of these from a personhood standpoint is the establishment of our own home planet. this world is not Kuiper-534 as we expected, instead it is a newly Established Colony world in the mid Rim that we have named Mar’eyce, or Mar’e for short. It’s a lovely little planet, with several mid-sized oceans  and varied environmental regions. It is well suited to farming or hunting with some natural resources however we are still most likely going to find that we ourselves are the greatest resource on any world we inhabit. 

Secondly it seems that we have being referred to as the Jang’ade by the pacifist Mandalorian faction enough that several Senators appear to believe that is the name of the Clones as a race. So that makes us the “Jang-ahday of Marie-say” according to the Senate. Could be worse, as long as they spell it right, no one really objects as far as I can tell.

Now on the subject of last names it does seem that we will need them. There are several options available to us the most obvious being of course Jang’ad or Fett. other options include taking the name of one's company such as Rex has done giving himself the last name Torrent.  we also have a few Ghosts originating from the 212th as well as Sky last names. Over in the 104th there are a few Koons, and I hear that there's even a couple of Secura's over in the 327th. these are all valid options but please remember that once you pick a last name you are stuck with it forever. Well, you can change it but there is a lot of paperwork involved and I will not be helping you with it.

Another item of note is that we are finally getting the three and a half months of owed back pay that came to us retroactively after the personhood to vote.  That is all finished being calculated and should be paid out to our bank accounts in order of a battalion and serial number, expect your share within a maximum of one week. As well as this we have achieved significant resources  to be used to help improve the mental health of Clone Troopers especially those who have suffered severely from PTSD torture or abuse. Thanks to dr. Mareenh of the 327th who’s collection of stories as told by the Vod’e has become a bestseller for donating all proceeds of said book to our psychological funds. It really helped fill the gaps that the Republic left empty.

Now, and this is very exciting,  I am pleased to announce that we have a functional cure for our accelerated aging! This means that within approximately 1 months time all clone should age at regular human rate. We will be dispersing The Cure which is a series of injections that you can give yourself or have a medic provide to you if you are uncomfortable  jabbing yourself. To calculate your given age after this point you will take the age you are when the accelerated aging is stopped and add it to the total number of years you’ve actually lived. For example, right now I am 14(28), in 5 years time I will be 19+14 years old, meaning I will be 19(33). It is a reasonably easy calculation to make. The first generation of clones Born Free will not have to make these calculations as they are young enough that the few months that they have already lived do not count toward their total amount of years lived. 

As far as the move to Mar’eyc goes,  the 327th is helping with the Exodus from Kamino. They are also going to be taking one of the city pods that contains cloning facilities which has been negotiated to be given to us by Alpha-49 (Recoil) in talks with Senator Burtoni. Now I think that it is common knowledge that lama Su former prime minister of Kamino Is dead following an incident with a recently-released donor Trooper. The full details of what happened are still unknown however we ask that everyone remember that we are bound by Republic law, and while I understand the desire to get revenge on the Kaminoans, we need to keep them Co-operative long enough to get everyone off planet.

That is all for now.

Cody Ve’vutra

Grand Marshal Commander 

7th Sky Corps/212th Attack Battalion

Senate Representative of the Jang’ade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cody's last name means "Golden Sky."


	8. Medicine for fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alpha-49 (Recoil) and Nala Se have a brief chat.
> 
> Cloves and Clove oil have been established as toxic to Kaminoans in this universe. In small doses it acts like an analgesic and sedative, but in higher concentrations it causes liver failure very rapidly.
> 
> Palpatine's plot has unravelled, and the old man is dead, machinations exposed. Is it the end of this tale?
> 
> Rated Adult, for purposeful poisoning.

 

 

 

 

 

"So, how are we feeling right now?" Recoil asked of Nala Se curiously. She didn't look at him, but her posture, slumped, helpless said it all. "Imagine if we'd never taken personhood, and this order went through. Imagine Tipoca city sinking to the seafloor with all it's sins and you in it. The legacy of your people erased under a madman." 

"Enough."

"Not really. I mean no one's happy, he manipulated a lot of people. Did he encourage some of the shit that's gotten you guys on the shitlist? I bet he did, planned it all out, since he wanted to discredit nonhuman species."

She huffed. Recoil snorted. "Senator Burtoni is a way better conversationalist than you, you know."

"Good for her," Nala Se ground out.

"No one likes being played like a fiddle," He mused, sipping his drink straight from the bottle. After a moment, he held the bottle of alcohol out to the Kaminoan, grinning ingratiatingly as she stared at him in disbelief. After an entire minute of contemplation, she accepted the bottle and drained it in one long draught.

 

\----------- 

 

"No one likes being played like a fiddle," Recoil smiled, tilting the empty bottle as if Nala Se, Presently in a coma with catastrophic liver failure, could possibly read the ingredients list. One of the listed spices was Cloves, lots of them. "My sympathies." He glanced at the monitors that indicated brain activity and whistled. "Well, Supreme Educator, perhaps you'll make a miraculous recovery before you're deemed a waste of Resources." He dropped the bottle down an incinerator chute, then walked out of the room.


End file.
